What Draco Says
by GreenEyesGreySkies
Summary: Sometimes, all you need are those particular words to get you by. Other times, you don't need to say anything at all. Draco Malfoy learns this and more throughout the course of his life. *Sort of DH epilogue compliant, except for the teensy fact that Draco and Harry end up together. Oh yeah, that.*


**Author's Note: Hi guys! I just had a few ideas of some dialogue that I wanted for this sort of thing brewing in my brain, and although I know that it's obviously been done before, this is my twist on things, yeah? Hope you enjoy! xx**

***Just a side note: Listened to 'Be Still' by the Fray while writing this... I suggest giving it a try when you read, as well ;) (mostly nearer to the end, I might add)***

**Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling... I am just borrowing. **

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," Draco says, holding his hand out to a tiny, green-eyed boy with scruffy hair and oversized clothes. He knows that this is Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he thinks that his companionship could become a very important asset for his future. Or at least, that's what his father says anyhow.

But the boy looks at his hand instead of shaking it, and then glances back up at him with an unfamiliar look of disdain. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," he replies coldly, leaving Draco with an unshaken hand and the burning, loathsome feeling of rejection brewing in his chest.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Scared, Potter?" Draco sneers, holding his wand up to his face in preparation to duel in front of their classmates for a demonstration.

"You wish," counters Potter, and both boys scowl and turn away from each other, heading towards their respective dueling sides.

Draco has waited two years to pull one over on the insufferable Gryffindor legend, and now he is finally getting his chance. This is when he will truly prove that he is better than Potter. This is when he will make Potter regret that he ever rejected the great Draco Malfoy.

It is not a spectacular duel, but Draco hurls a snake at Potter, and Potter speaks to it. He _speaks_ to it! Well, there goes proving himself, Draco thinks. Everything is all about Potter once more.

(And Potter wins the duel, of course. Damn him.)

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Potter!" Draco calls, turning around in his seat at the Slytherin table to taunt his rival. "Is it true you fainted? I mean, you _actually_ fainted?"

He looks back at his friends, who snicker along with him before he turns back to smirk at Potter. He really does not have much to go on lately, and the latest news of Potter fainting on the train from a dementor attack will surely give him some fuel for the time being.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Weasley spits, then gives Draco a glare and turns Potter away from him, not giving the other boy a chance to say anything back.

And Draco is slightly disappointed that he doesn't. He even goes so far as to send Potter a quick drawing of him being electrocuted, a small feat in Draco's mind, but nonetheless effective.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"That was for my father," Draco sneers, after stomping on Harry's face and swiftly breaking his nose.

The boy is lying below him, immobile, his green eyes still wide with the shock of being discovered eavesdropping over Draco's conversation on the train. Draco throws the invisibility cloak that he found Potter wrapped up in over the boy and smiles wickedly.

"Enjoy your trip back to London," he says, turning away to leave the train, and hopefully, Potter behind. But Draco sees him a few minutes later trying to catch a late carriage to school, and he laughs at the Golden Boy's mangled nose.

"Nice face, Potter!" he shouts. Potter gives him a short nod back, and continues to talk to his loony friend.

Draco just glares at the back of his head.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I... I can't be sure," Draco mutters, and the feel of his father's breath against his neck makes him freeze with apprehension. Of course he knows who this disfigured lad is in front of him, he's been glaring at and plotting against this face for as long as he can remember. But this is much bigger than that. This is war.

He's close enough to hear the ragged breathing and the scuffle of trainers, close enough to see the purple bruises under the other boy's disfigured eyes. Potter is looking up at Draco with those eyes that Draco knows are a beautiful shade of brilliant green, but as of right now they are a sort of dull tint of moss, or mold, and clearly not beautiful at all. And Draco can almost hear him begging, 'please, help me.'

So Draco does. He does not reveal Potter to his family and so he betrays them, in a way. He feels that it is the least he could do for everything that he has done to Potter in the past.

And after some time and initial fighting, Potter wrestles Draco's wand away from him and disappears shortly after, so Draco doesn't see him again for a long time.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Why did you do that?" Draco asks, running after Potter after he's given a very detailed, but mostly positive testimony for the Malfoy family in the Death Eater trials. Narcissa and Draco have both gotten off on parole because of it, even though Lucius had not been as lucky. But still, they would have all been thrown in Azkaban had it not been for Potter's input. Draco only wants to know why he did it in the first place.

Potter stops, shrugs, and shoves his hands in his pockets, a nervous habit that Draco has come to know quite well with all the Potter-observing he's done in the years. "Because you deserve it," the ex-Gryffindor says simply. He tosses Draco a small package, and although it surprises Draco, he catches it with grace and ease.

Draco immediately tears open the package, finding his old wand lying there in perfect condition, and he notices that Potter has even had it shined and cleaned before giving it back. He feels his heart well up with joy that he has not felt since before the war, or maybe never, and he looks up to thank the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice.

But Potter is already gone.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I'm not the same boy that you knew back in school," Draco remarks, when Potter chases him down one day through Diagon Alley and mentions the thank-you note that Draco has finally gotten the guts to send after many months of deliberation.

And with that, Potter grins at him—actually _grins_ at him!—before extending his hand out boldly. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter," he greets, green eyes glistening in a way that Draco has never seen directed at him before.

Draco pauses, he knows that it's not school anymore and that it would be quite immature of him to snub the peace offer after all they've been through. So he takes the hand and shakes it firmly. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he responds, playing along.

"Well then, Draco Malfoy," Potter says. "How would you like to grab a bite to eat with me, say, Tuesday night?"

Draco says yes without hesitation.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Bloody Ginny Weasley," Draco grumbles, tossing aside the lavish wedding invitation that he'd received in the mail a couple weeks ago. He hadn't responded to it, although the wedding had been this weekend. The invitation has swirly gold penmanship and lace on the edges and a tacky moving picture of Potter and the girl Weasel embracing lovingly on the cover. Draco could be sick all over it, he really could. He sifts through his neglected pile of mail again, finding a few other notes from Potter that his owl had brought in.

There is a particular one from the day before that catches Draco's eye, and he opens it with caution. The note asks Draco why he hadn't attended the wedding, nor any one of their Tuesday dinners that they had been having for the past couple of months. Draco takes a quill and a stray piece of parchment and starts to write all the reasons why he couldn't attend the wedding or the scheduled dinners, but when he is finished and he reads it over again, it just looks like a load of gibberish to him. He throws it away.

So Draco never gets the chance to answer that one, either.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"It's not like we were even friends to begin with!" Draco yells at Potter, a couple months later, when the man has cornered him in a restaurant that he surely knows Draco visits as a regular. The hurt expression on Potter's face makes Draco want to take it back, but he never takes anything back so he doesn't this time, either. He thinks of the days back in school when he'd glare at Potter this way, and how it really hasn't been that long since then.

"I thought we were starting over," Potter says, his eyes still pleading. "Why are you avoiding me like this?"

Draco knows that he can't yell at Potter over the wedding invitation, or the questioning notes, or even the friendly dinners, because Potter just wouldn't understand. Draco hardly understands it, himself. It is something that just can't be explained with words. He looks down at the gold wedding band on Potter's finger and scowls, thinking that it lacks in luster, somehow. Potter could honestly do better.

"Malfoy, just come to dinner with me tonight," Potter urges. "We can talk it over then." Draco stares at him, and Potter's pleading face starts to morph into one that he hasn't seen since before the war. "What? Are you scared, Malfoy?" Potter taunts, his mouth curving up in a challenging smile.

And damn it, how could Draco refuse that?

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Pass the salt, would you?" Draco asks, even though he knows that Potter is probably already holding it out to him. They've been having these dinners for a few years, and the ex-Gryffindor has surely gotten the drill by now. Draco looks up from his meal in anticipation when he does not immediately get his salt.

Potter's eyebrows are raised, and as Draco suspected, he already has the saltshaker in his palm. But he holds it at a distance so that Draco can't take it from him. "You know that salt can be bad for you, right?" he points out.

"Shut up," Draco mutters, and he reaches over to snag the shaker from Potter's grip. Potter laughs and lets him have it, a mischievous grin on his face.

And before he knows it, Draco is smiling back. He does not know when he had started smiling at Potter rather than smirking at him, but he does not question it or attempt to stop.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Pass the remote, would you?" Draco asks, when Potter is once again crashing at his flat after what seems like the millionth fight with his wife. Potter always takes the same couch, and Draco swears that there is now a Potter-shaped indent in it, but he honestly doesn't mind. When Potter is over, it's like he has a roommate again, like he had back in school. Except Potter is nothing like his pristine Slytherin roommates, no, he leaves a trail of mess wherever he goes. Draco somewhat resents this, because honestly, this is already an act of kindness as it is and he really shouldn't be cleaning up after the man like some kind of House Elf. But then again, Draco doesn't really want it any other way.

Plus, he thinks with a smirk, it ticks the Girl Weasley—er, _Potter_, off when Potter stays at Draco's place after a fight. She hates Draco, after all, and she highly disapproves of their strange little friendship. That's what makes it all the better, he decides.

Potter finally hands him the remote, and Draco looks at the other man, who appears to be close to fighting sleep. He shoves him a bit.

"Get your feet off the coffee table," Draco insists, and Potter reluctantly complies. Draco always gets on Potter's case about the feet-on-the-coffee-table issue, even though he knows that it will happen regardless of what he says. And as he expected, Potter's feet are back on the table a few minutes later.

("Damn it, Potter! How many times do I have to remind you?")

**~x~**

**~x~**

Draco doesn't say anything to Potter when he goes to see his only son off at the train station, he only nods at him. A short, tight nod, as he knows that Ginny Potter is probably watching him distrustfully. He gets a nod and a bit of a smile back from Potter, but the man does not move to say hello. Draco notices that Potter's youngest child, of whom Draco does not know the name of, is staring at him curiously. When he catches her looking, she gives him a sweet smile and turns back to whisper something in her mother's ear. Draco turns away quickly before Ginny can catch him watching them.

Potter has not gotten into many major fights with his wife over the past couple of years, either that or he has been finding another place to stay, because Draco is now married to Astoria Greengrass and cannot lend out his anymore. Actually, it's been maybe ten, ten or so years since Potter has regularly appeared at his flat. Though now, Draco lives in the Manor again, as Lucius had passed on in prison and so Draco is the new Head of the Family.

Draco does not particularly regret marrying Astoria, because she has given him their one and only child, Scorpius, who they are now happily sending off to his first year at Hogwarts. He only regrets that the marriage has somehow restricted his sort-of-kind-of friendship with Potter, whose only extended hand of friendship lately included a dinner every now and then. Not every Tuesday, like it had been after the war, but every now and then. And every now and then was certainly not enough to keep Draco in check with Potter.

But then, what could he do? Maybe the gods had gotten it right the first time and he and Potter aren't meant to be friends, after all. It's funny how it only took him 19 years to figure that all out.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Draco inquires, looking down at the duo of rain trodden and luggage-laden Potters standing on his doorstep at eleven at night.

Potter looks up at him through a mop of wet hair, his eyes glistening sadly. "She kicked me out," he says simply, motioning towards his bags. "Me and Lily. Ron and Hermione don't have enough room for us. Can we please stay here?"

Draco has a right mind to say no, because Astoria is inside sleeping and she would no doubt be annoyed that he's made another decision without her. But he takes one look at Potter's small daughter—the only one of Potter's children that has not gone off to school yet and the one that had given him that adorable smile back at the train station—with her long, red hair sticking to her forehead, her almond-brown eyes looking up at him with hope.

He sighs and jerks his head a little. "Come on in," he says gruffly, allowing them to move past him.

Potter shoots him a grateful smile and guides his daughter inside. And after Draco shows them to their rooms and Potter's daughter—Lily, he must remember—has run off to bathe before bedtime, Potter goes over to Draco and pulls him into an unexpected hug. Draco stands there stiffly, utterly surprised, as Potter has never touched him like that before.

"Thank you," Potter whispers, as he slowly lets go.

"It's no trouble," Draco replies, still a bit shocked from the embrace.

Potter grins again before disappearing into his room and shutting the door with a gentle click. Draco stands there for a long time, unmoving, until it is much too late and much too dark and he goes back to bed feeling lighter than he's felt in years.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Breakfast is ready!" Draco shouts, knowing that he may have to shout it a few more times before Potter and the others actually come down to eat.

It has already been a few months since Potter and his daughter have begun staying with them, but the man is just as Draco remembers him: messy, forgetful, and _hungry. _Draco has already made an extra batch of eggs, scrambled just the way that Potter likes them. He doesn't know why he would do this, he should just throw together any old concoction he made up and serve it to the Potters like he did with Astoria, but he can't help but try harder for them. Maybe it is the age-old feeling he gets with Potter, the one where he always feels the need to impress him even if it's just in some small, insignificant way.

Lily is the first one down the stairs, and she jumps into a seat and looks at Draco expectantly. "What did you make for me, Mr. Malfoy?" she asks, her eyes shining brightly. Like her father's, he notes.

"Call me Draco," he reminds her, pushing a plate of bacon and eggs in her direction.

She glances down at it and shakes her head in dissatisfaction. "You didn't arrange it into a happy face," she complains.

Draco stares at her. She is much different than his son, who is cool and reserved just like Draco was when he was young. She is lively and rambunctious and charming and sweet, with a wild imagination and a certain ability to make everyone around her feel warm inside. Draco thinks that Lily is just like her father in that way. He quietly arranges the bacon and eggs into a smiling face and then looks at her for approval. Lily takes a look at it, and shakes her head again.

"No, this one's not smiling big enough. But we'll work on it," she says, her lovely voice sounding like a series of bells as she pats him on the shoulder in indication of a good try.

Draco hears a chuckle and looks up to find Potter standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and observing the scene with a tender sort of smile on his face. The look unnerves Draco a bit and he glances away, going back to the stovetop. When he looks back a few minutes later, Potter is still standing there.

"You're going to be late for work if you don't hurry up and eat your breakfast," Draco remarks, motioning towards the table for the man to sit.

Potter snorts and heads to the table, ruffling his daughter's hair as he sits down. "Yes, dear," he says, sarcastically.

Draco tries to hide his smile by turning away again.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"It's okay, I'm fine," Draco murmurs, letting Potter put a comforting arm around his shoulder. He has just discovered that Astoria has been having an affair behind his back, and a serious one, at that. She wants a divorce.

"I'm sorry," Potter says again, giving Draco's shoulder a squeeze. "I know what it's like, I've been there."

Potter's divorce papers had just been filed only about half a year ago, so Draco supposes that he really_ does_ know. He smiles in response, feeling numb but not sad. Oddly, he doesn't feel too remorseful about his divorce at all. Astoria is letting him keep custody of Scorpius, as she knows just how much he means to Draco and she is still his friend, first and foremost. She says that she wishes things had turned out differently for them, and Draco agrees; he doesn't blame her for wanting more. Draco has never given her more and he doesn't regret not doing so, it's just life, giving him more twists and turns he doesn't expect. And he's okay with that.

"You know, Ron and Hermione have gotten a bigger house," Potter remarks after a while, softly. "They've offered me and Lily a place to stay there."

Draco turns and looks at him now, his heart suddenly a lot heavier than before. He doesn't know why it affects him so much more to hear that Potter is leaving him than his own wife, but it does, and it hurts. Maybe he doesn't want to live alone in his large, spacious Manor, or maybe he wants company. More or less, Potter's company. And Potter's company is not something that Draco wants to give up quite yet. He shakes his head.

"Don't leave," he protests, feeling a bit of shame from the way that his voice cracks. He is a grown man, after all, it would not do for him to get emotional over such trivial things.

"Okay," Potter says immediately, and Draco gets the feeling that it's what he wanted to hear. That Potter's decision whether to stay or not lay in his own hands. Draco smiles, and Potter smiles back. Draco regrets the years that he spent plotting against this man, when he could have had this—whatever _this_ is—all along.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"You need to go to bed, Lily," Draco insists, trying to grab for the speedy girl as she runs around her room, giggling at his attempts to catch her. She is ten now, and she will being going off to Hogwarts soon, but she still acts like the eight (and three-quarters! Lily insists) year-old that Draco remembers her being when the Potters first arrived.

"Lily!" He grabs for her again, but she evades him smoothly and holds a book from behind her back.

"I'll only go to bed if you read to me," she says, her tone stubborn and confident in a way that she surely obtained from listening to him. He scowls.

"I've already read to you tonight," he reminds her.

"Again," she persists, jumping on the bed and holding the book out to him.

He sighs and sits down on the bed, giving in and reading her the book. Draco used to make fun of Potter for going soft on his daughter, saying that he would never give Scorpius the same treatment that Potter gave Lily and yet, here he is doing the same thing he said he wouldn't. Draco is just glad that Potter isn't around to see it. He reads the book, shamelessly using the many voices that Lily has instructed him to use, before tucking her into bed. She reaches her arms out to him for a hug and he sighs, giving her one and not feeling the slightest bit strange about it. She is an affectionate little girl, after all, and he has to admit that he'd grown to tolerate her squeezes. As he starts to let go though, Lily leans up and presses a small, sweet kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispers, before letting go and leaning back to snuggle into her pillow. Draco nods numbly, unable to speak, and he backs out of the room and closes the door behind him. When he turns around to go to his own room, Potter is standing essentially chest-to-chest with him, and he stops him. Draco looks up.

"Hi," he mumbles, attempting to sidestep him. Potter doesn't move.

"She really likes you, you know," Potter remarks, running his hand through his hair.

Draco smirks. "Well, who wouldn't?" he jokes easily, moving aside.

Potter leans forward and shrugs, invading Draco's personal space and causing him to take a surprised step back. Draco glances down at Potter's chest, adorned with many of his shiny, gold Auror badges, and realises that he is still wearing his uniform from work. He wonders if Potter has been working late tonight, or if he'd just forgotten to change.

"Potter—" he starts to ask, but he is cut off when the other man tilts his face up and gently takes Draco's lips between his. It is brief and chaste, but it still takes Draco by complete surprise and he immediately becomes immobile, wondering when in the world he'd gone from hating Potter to tolerating him to befriending him to—_this._ But more importantly, he also has to wonder why he hadn't thought of doing this _before. _Because for Merlin's_ sake! _

Potter draws away quickly, shooting Draco a lovely smile and walking away towards his room without another word. Draco watches him go, confused and a bit ecstatic.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"You're such a girl," Draco mutters to Potter, when the other man makes little sniffling sounds upon seeing Lily off at the station. The girl has grown up so fast, and she is joining her brothers and the Weasley children in a small circle by the entrance to the train compartments.

"She's the last one," Potter says, his eyes glistening.

Draco knows that Potter is very attached to his children, as over the couple of years that the Potters have spent at the Manor, Draco has gotten to know each one of them considerably well. The first summer Albus Severus and James had come home to the Manor for a few weeks during school break and they had initially taken to Draco in a suspicious manner. But now, they jump all around him as if he is just another part of their family. And of course he spends much time around Lily, who always gives him hugs and draws him pictures and insists that he read her bedtime stories every night, and who sometimes refers to him as 'Daddy' when she is sleepy. Draco blushes, thinking of that one.

He looks around, taking notice of Scorpius off to the side getting prodded by a curious James Potter, who has apparently taken a liking to him of some sorts over the previous summer. Draco is amused by the way that his son becomes quite awkward around the Potter children, and thinks of himself at the young age.

Potter leans in and kisses him on the cheek, and his lips feel cool against the flush that is still there. Draco turns to Potter and Potter gives him a small smile, indicating that he will be all right even without any of the children to keep them company.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Harry! Ohh, _ahh-h, Harry_!" Draco moans, clutching the sheets and squeezing his eyes shut as Potter licks a strip of Draco's skin with his tongue and slowly enters him, leaving Draco shuddering and groaning and glistening with sweat and exertion. He does not know if he has felt this kind of pleasure before, well, _ever._ Because to him, sex has always been some sort of job that was required of him to continue on the Malfoy line. It had been like that with Astoria, but it is certainly not like that with Potter. Not in the slightest. With Potter, everything is a surprise, a contradiction: both clear and hazy, wild and gentle, but always absolutely _sensational._ With Potter, it isn't about lineage anymore, but about what Draco wants and feels. Because with Potter, it's about _Draco. _

"I'm going to make you scream so loud that they'll hear you in China," Potter whispers in his ear, taking a bit of it between his teeth and nibbling persistently as he pushes into Draco harder, faster.

And with that Draco lets out a long, desperate groan; he is glad that none of the children are home anymore, since he makes so much noise that night that he wouldn't be surprised if they _had_ heard him in China.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I'm not in love with you," Draco says quietly, as he always does after he's done making love to Potter, or vice versa.

He doesn't know why he says this, or why he feels the need to say it. He only feels that maybe he is afraid, afraid that Potter will leave him and will finally decide to start his life over with someone new, someone better. Draco doesn't want him to, but he knows that if it must happen, he needs to let Potter believe that it wouldn't matter to him at all.

Potter only nuzzles his neck and buries his face there, curling his body around Draco's and not saying a word for the time being. But Draco does not need words to know that he doesn't believe him.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I'm in love with you," Draco whispers into Harry's ear, as he rests his hand on the other man's.

_Completely, inconceivably, and utterly in love with you._

They are sitting across from each other at the first restaurant that they met at every Tuesday after the war for an anniversary dinner. Harry has already placed the salt on the other side of the table for him, and Draco doesn't even complain much when the man rests his feet on the bottom of his seat from time to time. And though it has been more than 20 years since they had first met here, Draco feels as if no time has passed at all. He could be sitting here across from a young, beautiful, war-torn Harry, and he could be the same lonely and lost Draco. It doesn't make a difference to him at all. Harry smiles and rubs Draco's hand with his thumb.

"I love you too," he says earnestly, making Draco feel like the luckiest man on earth and with that, effectively vanishing the feeling that Harry could still leave him completely from his mind. Harry then lets go of his hand, gets out of his seat, and reaches into his pocket while Draco stares at him. He gets down on one knee.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Harry continues, pulling a small box out and flicking the cover open. There lies two silver bands, shining new and perfect, unlike the gold band from his previous marriage that Harry had discarded long ago. "Draco, will you marry me?"

Draco jumps out of his seat, completely aware that essentially everybody in the restaurant is waiting for his answer. He takes Harry by the collar and pulls him up into a standing position, as if he is going to punch him in the face. Harry looks at him, confused, because that is not what Draco is supposed to do, and Draco gives him an answering smirk. He pulls him in closer and Harry's eyes widen almost frightfully.

"What? Are you scared, Potter?" Draco whispers.

Now Harry's eyes flash as he remembers, and an impish smile blooms on his face.

"You wish," he replies, closing the gap between their faces and crashing their mouths together.

Draco vaguely hears the crowd cheering and knows that news of this will reach the Prophet by the next morning, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters but the feel of Harry close to him, so close that they are almost one. Nothing matters but the fact that Harry is Draco's, now and forever. And who would have thought? The boy who loved too much and the boy who hardly loved at all. Together at last.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Don't tell me what to do, Weasley," Draco mutters, causing the redheaded man to glower at him slightly.

After all these years of being friends/lovers with Harry, Draco _still_ doesn't get along so well with Ron Weasley. He always dreads coming to these monthly dinners that Harry plans with his two best friends, but his husband has insisted upon his presence at them. Harry argues that if he has to sit through Slytherin bar outings with Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, then Draco has to come to Harry's little dinners with the Weasleys.

Harry gives Draco a look for his comment and pats Weasley on the shoulder sympathetically. "He didn't mean it, Ron. Of course he'll be attending your anniversary party with me," Harry says, amending the conversation quickly.

Now Hermione Weasley comes up, giving her husband a small kiss on the cheek and hugging Harry with one arm. "Harry! It's good to see you again. And Draco, of course," she adds, amicably.

"Hermione," Draco nods at her, preferring her company to her husband's. At least she can hold an intelligent conversation.

Harry grabs Draco's waist as they all head into the dining room of the Weasley's home, and he whispers in his ear as a warning. "Play nice, Draco," he purrs. "Or I'll be forced to punish you when we get home."

Draco smirks and says nothing, but on the inside, he is plotting. For the rest of the meal, Draco goes out of his way to be absolutely horrid to Harry's friends, knowing that when they got home, Harry would have to punish him.

And punish him, Harry did.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Well if you don't like it, don't come back!" Draco yells after Harry when the other man storms out of the Manor for what seems like the millionth time in the past few months.

They'd gotten in fights about the smallest things lately, like who would cook dinner that night or why Harry's shift at work had run for so long. Draco can't remember what this particular fight is even about, all he knows is that he is fighting it and he isn't going to back down because he never backs down with Harry.

It is always back and forth and back and forth between the two of them, and Draco sometimes has wonder if it had been such a good idea to get married in the first place. He knows that they would always be like this, bickering and getting on each other's nerves and essentially making the other want to tear his hair out. He sits down on the couch that Harry loves so much and sighs, grabbing the remote and flipping on the muggle TV that his husband had insisted on installing the minute they had gotten married.

It is only an hour later when Draco hears the front door being unlocked again and looks over to see Harry standing there, his coat dripping wet from the rain outside. His expression is forlorn. "Draco," Harry starts. Draco just stares at him patiently.

Harry comes over and sits down on the couch next to him. He doesn't say anything. After a while, he leans down and rests his head on Draco's lap. "I'm sorry," he says, earnestly. He turns to look up at him with those sad, glistening eyes that Draco loved so much.

"What happened to us?" Draco asks, and Harry's face falls and his green eyes close.

"I don't know," he says, honestly, and sadly.

Draco feels his heart ache, wondering when in the world they had become like this. Old friends though they are, they are also old rivals, first and foremost. It seems like that thought never exited his brain. Yes, Draco knows that Harry loves him, and has loved him for the several years that they'd been together. But sometimes, he has to wonder if that is enough.

"I'm sorry, too," Draco finally declares, thinking that their love _has _to be enough. It has to be. Enough, enough to perhaps save this relationship before it collapses. Because Harry is everything, Harry is his whole life. If Draco loses him, he would surely lose a piece of himself, as well.

"I don't even remember what it is we were fighting about," Harry admits, and that elicits a few small laughs from the both of them as they realise the ridiculousness of their predicament.

"Me neither," Draco agrees, and Harry smiles at him. It is then that he knows that they are going to be okay, sooner or later, because he never wants to even _think_ about regretting marrying Harry ever again.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"Get your feet off the coffee table," Draco reprimands Harry for the third time since they've sat down, and Harry takes his feet off the table with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry."

Draco rolls his eyes and goes back to his reading book, and the only sound he hears for the next few minutes are the ticks of the grandfather clock chiming pleasantly in the background. Though, he knows that this silence will be short-lived since Harry had joined him only about a half hour ago; opting to take his favourite seat by the fireplace (and consequentially, the coffee table with so many feet marks that Draco supposes that it should just be called an ottoman). Now, Draco doesn't normally mind when Harry drops in on his personal time, but the trouble with Harry is that he is not a quiet man and Draco really wants to get this book finished today. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes longer before Draco gets the distinct impression that something has changed and looks up from his book. He gives an irritated sigh.

"Damn it, Harry! How many times do I have to remind you?"

Harry quickly takes his feet off the table again and Draco scowls at him.

"I'm bored," Harry declares, finally sitting up, putting his novel down on the ottoman/table.

"Shouldn't have retired then," Draco remarks without sympathy, as he had never needed to have a job and doesn't really see the appeal of one. His only job has been keeping Harry in check all these years, and he is damn good at it.

"They said that I was getting too old for field work," Harry says, with a bit of bitterness in his voice. "But I bet if they had another Voldemort running around, they'd beg me to come back in a heartbeat!"

Draco shakes his head, putting his book down and giving Harry a look. "I'm sure they would. But let's just be thankful that there isn't another Voldemort running around," he says. "Because then I wouldn't get to spend as much time with you."

Harry smiles and leans back in his chair, satisfied with what Draco has said. Draco snorts softly and picks his book back up. But after a few minutes, he doesn't need to look away to know that his husband has done it yet _again._

"Potter!"

"Sorry."

**~x~**

**~x~**

"We're growing old," Draco remarks as he lies in bed next to Harry, who is playing with the ends of his slightly greying blond hair. They still make love every night, but it's not nearly as spontaneous and passionate as it used to be. Draco would say that it has become gentler, more loving, and tender, a type of deep, rooted trust instead of a demanding sexual libido. As their relationship has grown to be. Harry smiles and softly presses a kiss to Draco's forehead.

"As long as we're growing old together," he whispers, placing another kiss on his mouth.

Draco just closes his eyes, wishing that he could keep this moment in his mind forever and ever, to replay whenever he felt sad and hopeless. To know that he is, indeed, loved.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I am _so_ proud of you," Draco tells Lily, as he is walking her down the aisle to her soon-to-be husband. Harry is on her other side, beaming so brightly that he might compete with the sun. Lily grins at Draco in response and he brushes a stray hair out of her eyes. He still has those little crayon drawings that she had drawn for him back when she was nine years old, and all of those books that she insisted that he read her before bed. And even though she is not Draco's own daughter, he thinks of her as one, and he is grateful that she has allowed him to walk her down the aisle with Harry.

Before Harry and Draco let her go to give her away, she turns to both of them and smiles, looking just as radiant and sweet as she did on the first day that Draco laid eyes on her in the train station, 19 years after the war. "Thank you," she whispers to Draco, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. Then she turns to Harry and hugs him. "I love you both so much," she declares.

Draco looks at Harry, whose eyes are glistening again with tears, because she is again the last one to be sent off on yet another journey. He sees James and Albus Severus both sitting in the front row with their wives, smiling as their sister gets married to the man that she loves. Scorpius is with them and with his wife Rose, and his expression is also tender for the girl that he'd grown to care for as a sister.

Our children are all grown up, Draco thinks, a bit sad and happy at the same time. They don't need us anymore.

He sees Ron and Hermione Weasley off in the next row, grinning widely at him and even going so far as to give him a few thumbs ups. He smiles back at them, thinking that maybe they aren't so bad after all. Then he notices Ginny in the crowd too with her new husband standing by her side, and he gives her a slight nod. Ginny, surprisingly, shoots him a genuine smile back and mouths, 'congratulations'. Draco feels a smile growing on his face as well as he mouths back, 'thank you'.

Harry grabs his hand and they back up to let the ceremony commence, and it is then that Draco finally feels like he is part of something. Part of this family that had welcomed him so warmly when he had none other to go to, so long ago. Draco's father had died in prison and his mother had shortly followed him, having made no efforts to care for Draco other than leaving him with a boatload of money as inheritance. But it isn't like he blames them for how they acted, or anything. It is simply the Malfoy way.

As Draco looks around at all the smiling people who have come to support Lily at her wedding, he feels a different kind of love and support than he had been used to as a child. He knows that_ this_ is the Malfoy-Potter way, the way that he has slowly grown to be a part of, with Harry. And _that_ means everything to him.

**~x~**

**~x~**

"I love you so much, you know that?" Draco asks Harry, who surprises him with breakfast in bed one day. Harry chuckles and crawls back in with him, pushing the tray of food that he has made for Draco towards him.

"I know. Now eat your breakfast, you grey-haired prat," he teases.

Draco gives him a sharp look and self-consciously rubs his receding hairline. "My hair isn't grey," he insists, frowning.

"It is. You're an old man, Draco."

Draco shoves Harry a little like he might've done when they were years and years younger and his husband laughs, those green eyes glistening in the way that they never failed to all of these years. Both men are well past 60 now, but sometimes Draco has to remind himself that he is not the snarky young man that he used to be. He looks over at Harry, who is giving him a smirk that he has stolen from Draco over the years, and thinks that despite the time that has passed, he can still see that tiny, messy raven-haired, oversized clothes-wearing, first-year Gryffindor boy smiling brightly behind the faded wrinkles and greying hair that defines Harry now. And it doesn't matter how much Harry has changed anyhow, he will always be beautiful to Draco. Draco smiles softly while the smirk fades from Harry's face and is replaced with an answering smile.

"What?" Harry asks, good-naturedly, his smile still brilliant and still the reason why Draco gets up in the morning.

Draco shakes his head. "Did I mention that I love you?"

"Maybe once or twice," Harry muses. Draco leans forward and kisses him on the mouth.

"Well, I love you."

**~x~**

**~x~**

Draco says nothing now, says nothing because there are no words to say. He sits on the ground, by himself, even though it is raining and he is bound to catch a cold if he sits here any longer. But he continues to sit. It has been more than 70 years since Draco had met Harry back in his first year of school, and a little less than 40 years since he'd fallen in love with him. But, Draco supposes, he'd always been in a little bit in love with Harry.

He hears the sound of footsteps behind him but he does not turn, because he knows that it isn't who he wants it to be. It can't be. And if he turns around, he's afraid that he will be right.

"Draco," Lily says quietly, touching his shoulder. He does not respond. "Dad," she tries again, and he looks up at her. "It's time to go."

Draco studies her face, still so beautiful and yet so sad, and thinks of how much she's grown over the years. Remembers the days when he used to chase her around her room in the Manor and read her bedtime stories until she fell asleep. The days when he and Harry would simultaneously sing her to sleep when she had woken up from nightmares. Draco lets her help him up off the ground and she takes his hand to lead him back to her family car, but he shakes his head no. He wants to walk home.

After she has hugged him and kissed him good-bye, telling him to make sure he gets back safely, he turns and looks back at the ground again. With a heavy heart, he raises his wand and quietly whispers _Orchideous_, conjuring a small bouquet of flowers from the tip of his wand.

He picks up the bouquet and carefully places it on top of the headstone that sits in front of him now, the headstone that he'd been hovering around for almost two days now since the burial. He mutters a quick spell that will keep the bouquet fresh and hidden from the rain and he starts to walk away, back towards the now completely empty Malfoy Manor that waits for him. But before he gets too far, he turns around and looks back.

"Thank you Harry," he finally croaks, his voice hoarse from the lack of use as he stares at the headstone once more. The headstone that covers the body of the man that Draco had lived such a long, twisted, _beautiful_ life with.

"For everything."


End file.
